Mud
by CeliaEquus
Summary: Blaise Zabini hates the rain, yet he must endure it for one of Voldemort's missions. For the Rain, Rain Challenge in the forums. Warning: mild swearing and some little violence.


"Mud"

Rain's a bitch.

Blaise Zabini knew this. His last step-father had said it all the time, and for once the young man agreed. (Funnily enough, that step-father had drowned.) This was why he waited until the afternoon storm was over before venturing outside.

He was supposed to be scoping out Muggle areas on You-Know-Who's orders, according to Draco Malfoy. Some way to spend his last summer before Hogwarts, huh? Doing dirty work for his so-called friend.

He nearly slipped when he started to Disapparate. He had to grab onto the brick column at the end of the path leading to Zabini Mansion. Once he was assured of his footing, he did the turn, concentrating on his destination.

* * *

><p>Blaise arrived in the room he had booked at a Muggle inn. He sneered at the marks that his boots left, wanting to leave them for a maid to clean up. But he had Apparated from the room the previous night, and had only just arrived back. No one would have seen him leave, so how could he explain the mess?<p>

With a flick of his wand the footprints disappeared, and so did the muck from the bottom of his shoes. Another few waves and he was dry. There was no sign that he had been out in the rain.

He was free to leave.

* * *

><p>"Good morning, sir!" the receptionist said, as perky as she had been when he signed in the previous day. He sneered at her.<p>

"I hardly think so," he said, tilting his head towards the windows. Her smile dimmed.

"The rain will make the flowers grow," she said, fiddling with a pen. "You paid yesterday, didn't you?" He nodded. "And you have your things?" He held up the green and silver overnight bag. "Very well then. I hope you enjoyed your stay."

Blaise didn't reply. He hated talking to Muggles. Unfortunately, it was a necessary evil in this case, although he wished he had convinced Crabbe or Goyle to do this instead. But they were too dim-witted for such a task. This required finesse, brains and charm, something which neither of Draco's lackeys possessed.

Staring out at the rain, he was reminded of his father's funeral. Out of all the funerals of his mother's husbands, that was the only one ruined by a downpour.

Yep. Rain was definitely a bitch.

He started out the door and bumped into someone. He pushed them out of the way and stepped into the lane, now riddled with patches of dirty water, some of them ankle-deep. He avoided them with a few light steps.

"Focus," he said, looking around. His task was to find the most populated place in the village, and try to detect magic as well. He was also meant to keep an eye out for the Mudblood Granger's parents, although he was aiming to keep his interaction with Muggles to a minimum.

He could hear a lot of talking and laughter nearby, and when he rounded the corner he saw a small school with children playing in the yard. He checked his pocket-watch and saw that it was just after eight-thirty.

So caught up was he that he missed the sound of approaching footsteps. Three small boys ran past, nearly knocking into him. He scowled when one jumped in a large puddle, splattering his robes with filth.

"Why, you…" The boys turned around and laughed, and kept laughing even while Blaise stalked forward. His frown changed to an expression of shock as he slipped again, only this time he fell face-first into the mud.

The children were clutching their stomachs as they chortled. He scrambled to his feet and drew his wand.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The boy who had jumped in the puddle fell to the ground, his mouth agape and his eyes wide open. His companions turned pale and looked at the teenager.

"Which one of you dies next?" Blaise asked. They looked at each other, then back at him, matching looks of terror and confusion on their faces. "Fine. Then I will choose."

"Look, mister, we meant no `arm," the one with ginger hair said, raising his hands.

"W-what'd you do to Johnny?" asked the other, whose hair was a dark blond. "`e didn't do nothin', neither."

Blaise reminded himself that he wasn't here to practise Unforgivable Curses for school. He had had his bit of revenge.

"Get out of my sight," he said, slowly and softly. The two children scampered away, leaving behind their friend's corpse.

The rain began to clear. Before it could stop completely, Blaise Disapparated, deciding that his mission was over. At least there was one good thing about rain: it washed away any and all tracks. Not that it mattered where magic was concerned; he doubted that he would even get a letter from the Ministry about using magic in front of Muggles. (Although next time Draco asked a favour of him, he would tell his 'friend' where to shove his wand.)

As he walked up the path to the family mansion, Blaise decided that there was one thing worse than rain.

"Mud's a bitch," he muttered, trying to brush some of it off his clothes.

The rain stopped by the time he reached the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay. Was it strange? I had this image of Muggles laughing at Blaise after he fell in some mud, and thought that killing off a younger child would have more impact. Or something.<strong>

**This fic is for 'The Rain, Rain Challenge'. I hope that I've fulfilled the requirements. I've never really written Blaise before (from what I remember) and certainly not as the central character in a story, so I had to do some research. I tried to make him as IC as possible.**


End file.
